#had a hell of a week so. recovering through baby rook

[plan-bliz]

she never thought to name it

08/17/2024

[opalmaplehibiscus]

Jamil’s Guide to Get the Okay From Your S/O’s Parents HC

HC on how Jamil Dealt w/ Everyone when trying to get Permission to Date Reader

*Continue ver. Of Jamil and His Adventure with Romance HC

·       So, you would think that since the 1st year crew witnessed the confession, you and Jamil would be dating right? Haha, wrong

·       Deuce and Epel would be giving Jamil death glares every time he says hi to you when meeting each other in the hallways, giving light kisses on the cheek or forehead, or even approaching you in general

·       The two would pick a fight with Jamil, making delinquent-like facial expressions and cracking their knuckles going as far as to even growl when Jamil doesn’t stop walking up towards you

·       They felt like dads that were about to give up their kid to some evil maniac, tainting their once innocent child to a “I hate you Dad” delinquent – and they weren’t having that. Excuse you, I raised that kid and you’re about to ruin all my hardwork? F*** you, like hell I’m letting you do that

·       Jamil would get annoyed by it. But, he would hold back his sneer since he knew that you treasure your friends, and he literally just started dating you (although Deuce and Epel would like to say otherwise). Yeah, no, he’s not willing to get dumped when their relationship hasn’t even lasted a day

·       He would let his tongue use its magic, not his unique magic, but its flattering magic in hopes to convince Deuce and Epel to let him at least get a foot closer to you

·       And to the horrors of Dad #1 and #2, they nearly fell for it. Nearly. That is until Ace comes in to save the day

·       Ace would make it seem like he approved of you and Jamil at first. At first

·       Out of all 5 of them though, he was  #2 most overprotective dad 

·       He’s seen your ups and your downs. And he was freaking saved by you not once, but twice. Not only that, but you tolerate his jerky-side and continued to support him nonstop. He cares about you and wants you to be in good hands, not get hurt

·       After witnessing Jamil’s true side and how much of a jerk he was to Kalim, yeah, Jamil was added to Ace’s black list. Now that he’s dating you though? He’s on the hit list now

·       And to emphasize that Jamil would never get his approval, Ace would take you somewhere else whenever Jamil ends up arguing with Deuce and Epel

·       Jamil would notice it right away, and try to get through or at least stop it, but Deuce and Epel, following the plan the 1st year squad created, would continue to block his way, even going as far as to insult how ugly he looked when he was OB. Which was taboo.

·       The duo would then be facing a pissed Jamil, who gets angrier when he sees Ace sticking his tongue or giving a knowing-smirk behind his shoulder as he takes you far, far away from him

·       And every. time. it. happens. Jamil would be tempted to use his unique magic. The only reasons he wouldn’t were because of 1. You, 2. He just got over OBing and wasn’t dumb enough to use it when he wasn’t done recovering, and 3. You

·       If Ace was bad, Jamil had it worse with Sebek

·       Surprisingly, the half-demon/half-human was #1 most overprotective dad

·       When Sebek watched how Jamil betray Kalim, he felt betrayed and angered

·       He thought him and Jamil were similar, with the want of wanting to protect their master while feeling honored to stay by their sides

·       After watching the magicam, he was already ready to take down Jamil. But boy oh boy did he had the guts to date you

·       Sebek: PREPARE TO DIE SNAKE Jamil: WHAT THE ACTUALLY F- Kalim: NO CURSING JAMIL! Well, at least not in front of your s/o Jamil: … F-Duck

·       Sebek wouldn’t hold back and literally tries to kill Jamil while Jamil runs away, screaming profanities left and right. Sebek wouldn’t admit it even in his death, but he holds you close to his heart

·       Jack, being the nicest of the five, would interview Jamil, interrogating him to T. He’s also the one that gives the okay sign to attack Jamil once he sees that the coast is clear

·       When Jamil talks with Jack, it goes more or less smoothly except for some bumps along the way

·       Jack: You better watch your back, if you ever hurt [Y/N]… Jamil: Do you expect me to actually take you seriously? I bet I can beat you even when you’re using your unique magic Jack: Even in front of [Y/N]? Jamil: You’re becoming more like your dorm leader Jack: You do realize that I’m the easiest one to get permission right? Jamil: Did I ever mention that your unique magic makes you look majestic. Honestly, I admire it

·       In the end Jamil does get Jack’s permission to date you. And thanks to that, he was able to get Deuce and Epel’s permission more or less. If you take out the threats and insults and him nearly getting caught by you when he was about to roast them

·       Just when he finally, and miraculously, finished getting all the first years’ permission, someone taps him on the shoulder. When he turns around and sees the rest of the dorms, his face turns pale

·       Are you kidding him? Why the actual crap are they involved? Just let him date you for gosh sake!

·       Out of all the dorms he had the easiest time to get approval, it was Heartslabyul

·       Riddle was similar to Jack, where he interrogated Jamil, probing around to see what were his true intentions of dating you

·       After the whole, intense event, Jamil was able to prove that he wanted to date you out of love and adoration he held for you. To be completely fair, he had no choice but to give honest answers since Riddle had used his unique magic on him, while Cater was filming him with his phone and Trey, who he thought would be the softest one of the three, was giving him a glare that could potentially put the devil to shame

·       The talk with Octavinelle was just a shaming session. They would continue saying “shame on you for so and so” or “you really think you could date [Y/N], when you’re only going to do this and this”, listing everything he had done in chapter 4. When they mentioned you not liking guys that would scream “DOKAN! NICE SHOT!”, he wanted to just dig a hole

·       Pomefiore though made Octavinelle seem like a baby. Until then, Jamil thought he had the sharpest tongue in the school. But that obviously wasn’t the case

·       He found it strange that Vil had politely asked him to stop by his dorm so they could talk, and thought that if he used his flattery again, he’ll at least easily get approval

·       The blows Jamil faced was too much though. Vil and Rook, when they want to roast someone – they don’t hold back

·       Jamil’s pride was completely trampled to the point he wasn’t able to get up. From judging his taste in fashion to criticizing how he looked when he Obed - and what do you mean he looked like Juju?! He looks nothing like that dumb snake! His looks, at the least, is decent compared to the rest of the school! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S JUJU?!?!?!?

·       Vil: Honestly you just remind me of that one snake that always sticks its tongue out on the side of its tongue from that one voodoo movie Jamil: What? I’m not that dumb snake! Vil: You’re right. That’s just an insult to the poor thing. You look like Jafar

·       We don’t talk about Savanaclaw. Don’t mention it to him, don’t try to ask about it to him, don’t bring it up to him

·       Jamil: Why the hell do I need to get approval from you? Leona: Is that how you’re going to talk to their parents when you ask for their permission to date [Y/N]? Jamil: At least they’ll like me unless a pathetic cat who’s only liked by a kid Leona: … “I am hunger. I am thirst. I am which steals your tomorrow –”

·       Honestly, Jamil didn’t know why you didn’t mention that you were friends with Malleus Draconia? That guy isn’t your “cute, kind and shy Tsunataro”!!!! He’s THE Malleus Draconia!!!!!

·       Jamil has felt fear before. He’s familiar with it. He felt it when Kalim was about to die from poisoning, when Kalim fell his magic carpet, when he found an assassin disguised as a servant, waiting to kill Kalim in his sleep. But the fear he had for the Diasomnia dorm tops all that.

·       He never would’ve thought that out Silver, Malleus, and Lilia, he would be most scared of Lilia

·       What baby face? What about him talking like a grandpa? All Jamil sees is Satan in a body of a dark fae 

·       When he was able to finally leave their dorm, he nearly fainted from the sheer pressure they emitted. They do not hold back on their blood lust. Whoever gets on their bad side, his condolences. You aren’t going to survive

·       When you greet him from the dorm’s entrance, he demands you to spoil him for a week while resting his head on your shoulder and hugging you tightly

·       When you hug him back just as tight, and patted his head while saying he did good, it reminds him why he still did it and that everything was worth it. Your mere presence was enough for him, yet when you comfort him? It was the best thing ever

·       After resting and spending a whole day with you (it ended up becoming more of a therapy session for his newly formed PTSD from Diasomnia), he prepares himself to face the final boss: Kalim

·       Despite Kalim already telling him that he supported their relationship, Jamil knew better than to just leave things at that

·       Jamil was aware how precious you were to Kalim especially when he heard Kalim saying you were his bffl right after Jamil

·       When he heard how you helped Kalim become more honest with his feelings and spent time hanging out with him when he was lonely, the feeling of guilt crashed into Jamil

·       It was times like this that he’s reminded how much of a jerk he was towards Kalim and that he should do a better job giving Kalim the respect he deserves

·       So, when he approached Kalim and asked Kalim’s approval, the conversation between Kalim and Jamil ended up being another heart-to-heart conversation with Jamil wanting to actually gain approval as someone Kalim would honestly support, not because he was his best friend

·       In the beginning, their talk resembled that of a person consulting a relationship counselor when Jamil was talking about his honest opinion of him dating you, his feelings for you and how he honestly felt nervous around you. Despite his calm and chill demeanor, Jamil talked about how he was scared of hurting you. Even if it wasn’t his intention, he was scared that he might screw up

·       Kalim, being someone who knew him the best, would point out everything good about Jamil, and Jamil would forever hold it a secret in his heart, but when Kalim mention how Jamil was someone he would trust despite everything that happened

·       The conversation shifts  towards them telling each other how much the other changed and developed after the whole Chapter 4 incident

·       When Kalim brought up how he learned to be more observant and considerate towards him, Jamil felt his heart beat faster from the nervousness and guilt. Jamil wanted to tell him that Kalim did more than enough, that he was, other than you, the only person in the world who would ever give him honest praises. That Kalim would forever be his irreplaceable friend

·       Yet, Jamil could only hold back seeing how this was going to a rare moment that Kalim actually opens up and spills everything that was piling inside of him. And if he interrupted, he knew that Kalim would end up stop talking about it, and how was he going to know that Kalim is actually okay with him dating you when it hasn’t even been a few days since the two of them went back becoming buddies?

·       When Kalim starts talking about how closely he holds Jamil and you to his heart, and that he wants to see the two of you becoming happy, Jamil would deny the fact that he was tearing up. Nope you’re just seeing things, Kalim, I’m not about to cry. I said I’m fine, Kalim no seriously I’m okay Kalim-

·       When he sees you coming out of your hiding spot from Kalim’s room, he surprised

·       You confess to Jamil that you came to also gain Kalim’s approval just a few hours before he had arrived, but stayed back out of your concern for him

·       When you noticed how Jamil started to look offended and thought you were suspicious of him using his unique magic on Kalim like he did before, you clarified and mentioned how Jamil looked nervous, heck more nervous then the time he had to talk to Diasomnia which led you to stay back and morally support him

·       Jamil would try to hide his blush, embarrassed and touched that you stayed back for him

·       He pulls up his hood, press it down firmly on to his head, pulls the strings until his face wasn’t visible, and he lied there in ball position

·       It took you and Kalim a good hour to coax Jamil to get him off the ground, and another hour to get him to take off his hood

[thepersephonecabin]

Legacy and Bullshit Mindfuckery (fic)

Summary: Luvander has two things for the Adamo’s first child: a gift and a wish.

Please see full tags and warnings AO3

Note: So... How did we get here? Well, basically, when I was writing A Very Adamo Christmas for @foxesonstilts for the @festivebastion exchange I meant to put in a short bit about a Luvander giving Laure and Adamo’s first child a very special gift, but forgot until after finishing FestiveBastion. So I told myself I was gonna write a small addition, and then my latent need to see the airmen recover after the war took over and suddenly I had a 4k+ luvander character study on my hands. And also about halfway through my if-i-dont-write-this-right-now-i-will-never-sleep craze a tiny part of my brain was like “you should make luvander a trans man for absolutely no reason” and I did and actually really liked the way it fit into the story.

So anyway, I hope you enjoy!

-

A day and a half following the birth of Rory Adamo, Luvander found himself on the doorstep of the Greylace Estate once again. Wrapped in one arm, he cradles a soft drawstring bag, cream in color with a light pink ribbon around the top.

He didn’t bother knocking as he shouldered his way through the doorway. Even though he still primarily lived out of the apartment above the hat shop, this place was dragon territory, and therefore as far as he was concerned, it was his home as well.

“Hello?” he called out, slipping his shoes off at the door. Maybe if he was really lucky, Rook would come in and pitch a fit about like he would in the good old days.

Balfour emerged from the lounge with a book cracked open in his hands and questioning eyes. “Oh, Luvander. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Luvander confirmed. “Where’s the chief and his young lady love? I had something I wanted to bring to them.”

“They’re in their bedroom, I think,” Balfour said before quickly amending, “Oh, no, not like that! I think it was just time to change her.”

“Ah,” Luvander said. “How is the not-so-little tyke anyway?”

Balfour smiled and began leading him up the stairs to Laure and Owen’s room as if Luvander hadn’t been there not two days ago. “Oh, you know. She sleeps and eats and poops and cries. Lucky the three of us don’t room up in the same area of the house as Chief Sergeant and Airlady Adamo or I’m sure we’d all be knackered already.

The three of us. Luvander knew he meant the three Second Wavers outside of Laure of course. Luvander felt a sick little spark of jealousy flare up in his stomach and not for the first time at their mention before he stamped it out with the guilt of it all.

Balfour continued, “Mom and Dad are still smitten with her though. I wager that by the sixth week in they might be out of the honeymoon stage.”

“Sixth? I don’t know if I could make it to the second,” Luvander said. Of course, he was happy to have a little niece to dote on, but Luvander had never seen much draw in the idea of having a baby you couldn’t return to its rightful owners when it began to shit itself.

Balfour laughed good-naturedly, “I think Adamo’s a bit more levelheaded than you, however.”

Luvander shrugged. “Maybe so, but I’ll stick to my instinct and take you up on that bet.”

They’d reached the Adamo bedroom now, and throught the door Luvander thought he could hear the baby’s wordless vocalization (Did most newborns make this much noise when they weren’t crying or was this one just especially talkative, he wondered) paired with Laure’s laugh and the low tenor of Adamo’s voice.

Balfour turned to him, touching Luvander’s elbow softly through his coat. Balfour wasn’t wearing his gloves today, Luvander observed. Good, he thought, he shouldn’t feel like he needed to hide them, especially not here, not with family.

“Before you go in…” Balfour began, “I wanted to ask how you were doing. I know Ghislain sailed out.”

Luvander resisted the urge to grimace. He liked to tell himself he did an okay job of deflecting everyone else’s attention away from his persistent problems with loneliness. On the good days he cracked enough jokes and sarcastic witticisms to keep the people around him too entertained to notice. On the bad days he threw himself into overworking, holed up in his workroom with little sleep and becoming overly perfectionistic about whatever he was working on until he felt like tearing it all apart again. But on the best days Ghislain was home, in this place Ghislain didn’t even think of as his home, but the place Luvander was, which in Luvander’s mind designated it as Ghislain’s home nonetheless.

Balfour, however had always been the one he couldn’t fool, and it was a fact that needled at him constantly. He didn’t enjoy it when others looked past the mask he’d so carefully crafted for himself like one of his custom hats.

Not that Luvander had anyone but himself to blame for that. Balfour always suspected Luvander’s yearning for affection and attention and approval had been more than the average loneliness, but then Luvander just had to go and fuck it up even further.

It had been at least a year and a half or maybe even two when it happened. He, Raphael, Balfour, and Rook had been drinking (because of course they had) in Balfour’s room at the Greylace Estate. These rooms were a damn sight bigger and nicer than the ones in the Old Airman, a fact that Luvander could never parse out about whether he appreciated or was annoyed by. As such, Balfour had set up a couch and a few chairs to fill the space between his bed and the opposite wall. Ever since Raphael turned up again, they’d started having little get togethers one or twice a month, alternating whose place hosted.

Then Thom’d been offered a job as a professor (a real one this time) at the ‘Versity and Rook had come back to Thremedon bitching and complaining the whole way back from whatever adventure they’d been on when they received the letter. Apparently Thom had already begun writing a letter back declining the offer when Rook found out and through some well-intentioned bullying and ripping of half-finished correspondence got Thom to accept. From Luvander’s understanding, Thom had decided immediately to pass on the job in order to continue looking after his older brother, knowing that Rook had very important reasons for staying away from Thremedon. He couldn’t ask Rook to go back there, and he didn’t feel comfortable letting Rook travel alone without eventually winding up dead in a ditch from asphyxiating from his own vomit either. According to him, Rook’s mental health had markedly approved once the Dragonsoul was destroyed and th’Esar’s plans thwarted. He’d finally been able to properly grieve, Thom said, but that didn’t mean he was ready to part ways and risk Rook relapsing without him to drag him out of it.

Rook found all this out and stubbornly refused to go along with that “bullshit mindfuckery” Thom was always practicing on account of the fact that teaching at the University had always been Thom’s dream job, and he would be damned if his little brother threw it away for his sorry ass. After all, while the ‘Versity had improved in regards to letting in more students from poorer walks of life since Thom had been awarded for his work with the Airmen, the same improvement hadn’t come in regards to hiring choices. For all any of them knew, this might be the last time a mollyrat was offered a job at the Empire’s highest learning institution in a long, long time. So, back to Thremedon they came, and Luvander, Balfour and Raphael’s little survivor’s club had expanded from three to four members. (There had always been an open invitation to Adamo as well, but he only rarely took them up on it.)

So, anyway, they’d been drinking thoroughly and Luvander more thoroughly than the rest. It’d been months since Ghislain had come to port- not his fault, some jobs simply took longer than expected- and Luvander was in the pits. That said, he’d been holding it together pretty admirably that night, and it had all been fine until Rook and Raphael left. Raphael said he had Royal Guard duty the next day- it was a job offer Luvander, Ghislain and Raphael had all received from the Esarina herself after she’d almost died by her own guards that night when they’d had to rescue the Adamos. Raphael had been the only one to accept.

But so when Raphael stood up to leave and appropriate one of the Estate’s carriages Rook also decided to leave “before the Professor starts hyperventilating over me” and figured it would just be easier to go back in one carriage. It was, in sober retrospect, a suspiciously sensical thing to come out of Rook Molly’s mouth, but who knew anymore. Luvander didn’t know what kind of bullshit mindfuckery Thom had exposed that man too while they were travelling, but Rook’d been all kinds of weird since they’d come back and by “weird” Luvander meant “vaguely decent.”

The two of them took their leave and after that the details grew fuzzy, but he did remember drunkenly confessing his depression about missing Ghislain to Balfour and Balfour being nothing but supportive as understanding.

“You’re so sweet,” Luvander had told him, slurring his words and cupping the other man’s cheek. “You know that? You’ve always been so sweet, Balfour. Sometimes I wonder how someone as sweet as you got mixed up with all of us selfish ingrates. You always deserved so much better than us. Hell, if you’d never met us assholes, you’d still have your hands.”

Balfour blushed and looked away. “My hands weren’t your guys fault, and even if I don’t have them, I have my girl and all of you. Besides, I’m not so inno-“

And that had been as far as he’d gotten before Luvander launched himself into Balfour’s lap and shoved their mouths together.

Now, it’s important to note that Luvander had always been a touchy drunk. He’s sure he’d made passes at all thirteen of the other airmen more times than he could count while trashed out of his mind. He even had one absolutely disastrous incident with Adamo that had gotten a very stern talking to about appropriate relationships between a superior officer and his subordinates the next morning. Luvander had deeply respected the things Adamo said to him at the time despite the massive hangover he was fighting his way through as he said it and the urge he had to hang himself rather than have this conversation at all. That didn’t mean he hadn’t brought up the irony of it in his speech at Laure and Adamo’s wedding, though.

Which was all to say that Luvander was no stranger to make-out sessions with his friends after a few too many drinks. In fact, drunken fooling around had been the bedrock upon which his entire relationship with Ghislain was founded. Even after Luvander and Ghislain were “official” they’d kept the relationship fairly open because Luvander wasn’t the sort to abstain from sex for months at a time while his lover was at sea. It had simply come with the condition that if anything that strayed from the “casual sex” territory and into the “feelings” territory had be to discussed- Ghislain wasn’t jealous about Luvander being with other people physically, but he was jealous about having to share Luvander’s heart and overprotective at times about the idea of someone taking advantage of Luvander’s emotions.

This had been different though. This kiss with Balfour hadn’t been borne of happy delirium or playfulness like most of his less-than-sober escapades were. This had been borne of deep, deep sorrow. A desperate effort to patch a leak in a dam ready to burst. The other reason it was different was because Balfour had only had had two drinks that night, and Luvander had had at least five times that.

On the bright side, if one had to have such a mortifying experience in their lives, Luvander could think of very few people better to have it with than Balfour Vallet.

The epitome of gentlemanly behavior, Balfour had gently broken off the kiss and softly and without malice told him that they couldn’t do this, not when Luvander was so intoxicated. Luvander had nodded and understood, but then broken into wracking sobs as he blubbered about how fucking alone he felt all the time. Balfour let him cling to him like a security blanket even though Luvander was still straddling him and repeatedly assured him that he didn’t care if Luvander covered his shirt with snot and tears.

Then Luvander woke up the next morning on Balfour’s couch with a blanket draped over him. His clothes were all intact with the exception of his shoes and his binder which he had a bad habit of sleeping in and Balfour knew it. Balfour must have peeled it off once Luvander had passed out along with the boots and then buttoned Luvander’s shirt back up and even replaced his signature scarf. Both binder and boots were now neatly laid out on the coffee table with care.

There were still a few bottles of alcohol too, and ordinarily he might have been tempted to drink them. This time though, he reckoned he’d done enough damage under the influence for one day.

That was about when Balfour appeared, already dressed for the day and carrying a tray of water and coffee. “Oh, you’re awake,” he’d said, kicking the door shut behind him. He sat next to Luvander on the couch and set the tray on the table. “I hope you don’t mind that I took off your…” he said awkwardly, wringing his hands like he always did.

It took Luvander a moment to understand he was talking about the binder. “Oh. Oh no, it’s- Balfour, I know you’d never do anything to me or go further than protecting my ribs from some rather tragic pain in the morning. And it’s not anything you haven’t seen in the showers before. If anything I think when it comes to invasions of peoples’ personal boundaries, I should be the one apologizing to you right now. What happened last night… the way I just went after like that was unconscionable and I promise it will never happen again. In fact, I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest if you never wanted to see me again.”

Balfour looked shocked. “Of course, I don’t want that. What happened last night wasn’t ideal, obviously, but you were plastered and having a rough day. I get it.”

Luvander could’ve both laughed and cry at that. “But it wasn’t just a bad day. It was… Bal, I think I have a problem.” He could practically feel the bile coming up just from saying those words out loud, but he told himself that if there was ever the time to admit it to anyone, this was it so he continued: “I think maybe I always had. Even before Xi’an it was like this, just not as intense or constant. I don’t know how to be alone. I don’t know how to feel unimportant or like I’m not the center of attention without letting it control me. When there were fourteen of us I could ignore it, right? Because there was always someone around, but now…” He wiped away tears with his scarf and adjusted it anxiously. “And, like, the way this place just fucking tossed all of us out like yesterday’s trash the second they didn’t need us anymore and that blasted medal ceremony was over didn’t exactly help.”

Balfour nodded slowly. “I think I know the feeling or at least a fraction of it. I felt so isolated and broken at the end of the war, but even before that I… well, I suppose I always felt like I was second to Amery.”

Luvander felt another pang of guilt. None of them had been sure how to react when Balfour replaced his brother in the Corps, but Rook more than anyone. Before Amery died he’d been the one of them that Rook was closest to, so Balfour’s presence was anything but welcome to him. So, whenever Rook had a problem, Balfour was usually who he took it out on. And Luvander had always just let him. Because sometimes crossing Rook was like crossing god in that house, but it didn’t excuse how cowardly he’d been.

 “Got feminine parts between his legs, airman’s honor.”

That’s what Rook had said about Balfour when he’d tried to be kind to Thom that first day when the Professor had them do introductions. Even then, Luvander, the real one with “feminine parts” among them was sitting right there, and he hadn’t said shit to stop Rook.

(Luvander had always felt Rook didn’t mind trans men as much as he minded trans women. Something about the way trying to be more masculine was seen as noble, while trying to be more feminine made you a Mary in a world where women were always seen as lesser. But he also felt like Rook’s somewhat backwards and begrudging acceptance of Luvander’s presence was conditional, like it was something that he was able to revoke at the barest hint of insubordination. Luvander was tolerated as long as he fought well and shut up and was cruel like him, but that didn’t mean it was real. At least Thom had seemed to have trained some of that out of Rook over the years, but it was still a nagging fear for Luvander.)

Luvander didn’t say any of that. He just said, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix it.” I don’t know how to fix me.

Balfour escorted him to the ‘Versity after that and made him talk to Thom about it. Thom being Thom, of course, looked at it as the academic he was. He talked about all kinds of fancy words like ‘schizoid’ and ‘histrionic’ and ‘dependent personality’. Basically, Thom said he couldn’t be sure exactly what the problem was without examining further. But he assured Luvander that there were coping mechanism they could try and that he had colleagues from the ‘Versity that he could ask for more medically focused advice as compared to Thom’s social theory perspectives.

Bullshit mindfuckery, Luvander remembered. As much as he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of Thom “examining” his psyche, he was significantly less thrilled about a perfect stranger doing it. At least he could trust Thom. At least Thom knew jackshit about how the airmen worked beyond the court gossip and bards’ song and those fucking statues that made them war heroes and not real people anymore. At least Thom was there when he woke up on an infirmary bed unable to talk for how deep his throat had been slit only to find out that four out of fourteen of them had come back. Even if Thom had been beside himself with grief, unaware that number five, Rook, was still breathing somewhere out there, at least Thom had borne witness for himself what they’d gone through, and Luvander wasn’t about to have to hash all of that to someone new.

But he couldn’t sit on his hands and not accept help when it was offered. Because he’d made Balfour a promise. He’d promised that he would never kiss Balfour again without fair and honest consent, plastered or not, and he’d meant it. He had so few friends left in this world. He wasn’t about to lose another due to his own selfishness and stupidity.

And so, he gave himself into the bullshit mindfuckery. He’d been meeting with Thom once every one or two weeks (or more than that if something set him off and crisis called for it). It was helping, Luvander thought. Slowly but surely.

Back in the present, Luvander shrugged at Balfour noncommittally. “It sucks, but I’m seeing the Professor tomorrow. And I guess now if I need someone to keep me company I could come and let the baby keep me busy so Mom and Dad can have some alone time.”

Balfour smiled at him. “You could have come over anyway. Well, I won’t push for specifics, but if you want to talk later…”

“I know where to find you,” Luvander confirmed.

Balfour gave him a bigger smile now. “Okay. I’ll let you talk to them then,” he said, and began descending the stairs, leaving Luvander at the at the door to the Adamo’s room.

He knocked briskly on the door and heard the Chief say, “Come in,” from the other side.

When Luvander opened the door, he found Laure on the bed over the covers cradling not-so-little Rory and making faces at her. Adamo was over by the radiator holding a bottle over the heat.

“Ah, I thought I heard someone out there talking to Balfour,” Laure said. “I didn’t know you were coming over today, but then again, I don’t think the pregnancy brain is totally out of my system yet.”

Laved waved moved to sit on the bed at her feet and waved her off with a hand. “It was unannounced. I had a gift for the baby and thought I’d bring it over.”

“Oh, that was thoughtful of you,” Adamo remarked walking over. To his credit, he only let a sliver of the wariness of a man who put up with thirteen uncontrollable ever-pranking monsters with dubious respect for authority for Regina even knows how long it’s been slip into his voice.

Luvander took the drawstring bag from the crook of his elbow and held it in his lap. “Well, I started working on this once you announced she was on her way. I guess I could have given it to you earlier, but it just felt like I should wait to give it to Rory in person. And of course, I didn’t exactly know you would choose to go into labor in a blizzard, so I didn’t have it on me the other night.”

He had a million things to say, a million possible preambles he could make, but he figured it was best to just show them. So, he pulled open the drawstrings, reached in, and pulled the carefully constructed figure of silver-grey fabric and held it up for inspection.

Adamo looked too shocked to say anything. Laure’s mouth had dropped into a soft “o” shape. But Rory had caught sight of her new toy and vocalized with one hand in her mouth and the other reaching out toward him with demanding hands. Bossy, he thought, Like her dad.

“I’m not sure I got all the details right since I was working off memory, plus she never really let me get that close to her anyway, but… Here she is,” Luvander said, because in his hands was a very small plush dragon.

“Is that…” Laure began.

“Proudmouth,” Adamo breathed. “Can I see her?”

“Of course,” Luvander said.

Adamo took it from him as if squeezing too hard would make it turn to nothing in his hands, turning it from side to side to see all the craftsmanship Luvander had put into it. Embroidered patterns where Proudmouth’s metal had been engraved, carefully cut and stabilized fabric made to take the shape of gears, a brass-colored ribbon where brass-colored brass reigns would’ve been. Every detail down to the shape of her claws had taken hours to craft and even more hours of meditating and sifting through bittersweet memories to recover. And here were the fruits of his labor all pieced together. Finally, Adamo let out a breath and said, “Looks just like her.”

“Well when you two starting talking about having kids, I wanted think of something special I could pass down to them, and eventually thought, well, every Adamo needs a dragon, right?” Luvander said. “So, I settled myself of making a different for each of your kids, if you have more that is. And it felt important that Rory got Proudmouth as your firstborn. I think… I think if things had turned out differently than they did Proudmouth could have been her birthright what with the way Anastasia picked two Vallets in a row to ride her.”

Adamo’s face as always was had to read, but somehow with a dragon in his hands, he looked years younger, and Luvander could tell whatever he was feeling he was feeling a lot of it.

Then Adamo smiled and said, “Thank you. It’s perfect, Luvander, really. I guess we should give Rory her girl and see if they choose each other.”

He passed the dragon to his daughter’s grasping hands, and they all watched as Rory immediately pulled Proudmouth to her chest.

“I think that’s your answer,” Laure laughed, dabbing at her eyes.

And in that moment, it seemed to Luvander that the world shone brighter. Welcoming a new generation was always hard, especially when the old one had lost so much, but it felt nice to be able to give the Airmen a proper legacy- one that wasn’t bronzed in statues, written in theses, or whispered behind hands at palace balls. But one that was simple- from father to daughter. And wrapped up in that gifted legacy was a wish, the most powerful wish Luvander had ever made, sewn into every stitch and seam: I wish that the ones who come after us won’t need our bullshit mindfuckery in the first place.

And then, Rook ruined the moment when they all heard a loud bang of the front door opened way too forcefully, followed by “BASTION FUCKING DAMNIT, WHO LEFT THEIR BOOTS IN THE DAMNED DOORWAY, I THOUGHT I DIDN’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS SHIT ANYMORE!”

Laure, Owen, and Luvander all looked at each other, and all at once they burst into laughter.

[writing-crocodiles]

Oatmeal Cookies- Chapter 1

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Rating: T

Summary:  The boys all think that they are the catch of the century and the girls all think that there are no good men left on the planet. What's left to do? Bet on it, of course.

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Thoughts on Magic Alright, the fact of the matter is that time travel completely possible; but it’s an absolute nightmare to do. If you take the baby from the equation it gets easier, but only marginally. Is time travel something that should be made easier, though? Honestly, you don’t want every loony with magic to be able to travel back. Everything would get messed up. I’ll have to research it more before next Saturday. Not that we’re going to look at it then, but I can’t ask Dad about it at the dinner table, now can I. Dad says next week we’re going to look further into animal communication, as per Rosie’s request.

Thoughts in General Mom still thinks when Dad and Rosie and I go to the cabin we’re playing board games or another type of father-daughter-son bonding. Well, she isn’t wrong, technically, but you would think she would have caught on by now that he’s teaching us magic. I mean, Rosie and I have been doing magic in the house. It’s so weird. Maybe she notices and doesn’t care? Probably not with the way she railed against Dad’s magic, but who knows.

______ Gideon’s eyes narrowed and he flipped the sword over in his hands, realizing how much of an improvement cowhide gloves were to bare skin. He planted his feet, which were unfortunately still in sneakers since he left his boots at home, and squared off.

Neal stood across the clearing dressed fully in leather. Seeing Gideon was ready he raised his sword. The tip shone in the sunlight that was able to make it through the trees. They stood in this position an odd amount of time, but both secretly knew the other was envisioning some sort of video-game-style fight intro.

Camera panning around them, zooming in on each of their faces respectively, showing their weapons, and finally zooming out to show where they stood relatively to each other.

Neal’s intro was apparently shorter than Gideon’s because he lunged before the latter had finished. He stepped out of the prince’s way, recovering brilliantly. Neal was unable to stop himself and plowed into a tree; the sword lodged in the tough wood.

Neal swore and put a foot next to where the sword met the pine. He tugged on the hilt with more force than necessary and he flew back, landing in the dirt.

There was laughter from a log on the edge of the clearing. Thereupon sat Rose, Gideon’s sister, and Patton Herman. They were playing a game of chess and only half watching the duel, but Neal took the fact she was laughing at him as a personal insult. He stood, red faced, and turned to his opponent again.

Gideon extended his hand and flicked his wrist. The sword slipped from his friend’s hands and soared up into the branches of the tree. It sunk into a particularly thick appendage and Neal scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Roooooose!” He whined, “Isn’t that cheating? Didn’t we agree ‘no magic’?”

Rose looked up from her game. She and Patton shared a look over the board and then she went back to contemplating her next move as she spoke.

“Actually,” she picked up her rook, “I don’t think we’ve ever talked about the possibility of magic during duels.” She smiled and placed her chess piece, “Checkmate.”

Patton muttered something about chess being a “stupid game, anyway” and swung his leg over the log to stand, pulling out his cell phone as he walked off into the forest.

Neal, still peeved what he considered cheating, went into a deep knee bend before excellently launching upward. He managed to grab the lowest branch and drag himself up, starting a journey to retrieve his sword.

“Hey, guys!”

The two Golds, who were the only ones left in the clearing, turned half-heartedly to see Evan Jones, as smiley as always, run in. The blond slung his backpack off his shoulder and dropped it at his feet, crouching down and unzipping it. The contents, perked Rose’s attention, included several brown paper sacks bearing Granny’s logo.

“Hey, Evan,” Gideon said, pulling off his gloves. His sister echoed the greeting and waved her hand over the chess board, making it disappear.

“Okay,” Evan said, picking out one of the bags of food, “I’ve got a hamburger- no onions, no pickles, mustard, ketchup,” he wrinkled his nose, “mayonnaise.” His reaction earned him a laugh from Gideon, “But seriously, who puts mayonnaise on a burger?”

Patton came back from his phone call in time to hear the last part, “I do, stupid.”

“Right….” Evan said slowly, he held out the bag and Patton ran over to collect his order. “Next is a cheeseburger with pickles.”

“Mine,” Gideon said, jogging forward.

“Bro, could you get me the cheeseburger with ketchup and lettuce?” Rose said from the log. She had laid down and put a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun.

Gideon looked to Evan and he fished through the backpack to find the second sack of food before handing them both to the older boy.

“Okay, then I’ve got a grilled cheese from me and another one for Neal. Then a thing of lasagna for Gilbert.” Evan said, standing up with the three bags and looking around the clearing, “Where are they anyway?”

Gideon put his sister’s food next to her log and unwrapped his own food, “Well, Neal’s currently in a tree.”

On cue, Neal dropped down from the branches, sword back in the sheath at his side, “Gil’s on a date,” he said, going to Evan to take his order.

“No way,” Rose said, sitting up and taking an interest, “With who?”

“I think with Brenna, if I remember our conversation correctly,” Neal said, plopping onto the forest floor.

“You’re kidding,” Rose said, grinning at Evan.

Evan spat a curse and zeroed in on Neal, “Brenna as in Brenna Jones as in my sister Brenna?”

“Yes?” Neal answered, unsure where this was going. Digging in his pocket, Evan glared at Rose’s grin. He pulled out a crumpled twenty dollar bill and threw it at her. She stretched it out, folded it nicely, then transferred it to her own pocket.

“It was so weird when he told me, too,” Neal said, biting into his sandwich, he then continued with his mouth full, “I’m the one who is the catch of the group.”

“Oh, yeah?” Gideon said, stifling a laugh, “That’s not what Alex said.”

Patton took notice at the mention of his sister, “Why, what did Alex say?”

“Yeah,” Neal swallowed, “What did she say?”

“She said that Evan is the nicest and therefore most likely to be the first ‘to get laid’ out of this group,” Rose piped up, on a surprised look from Evan she shrugged, “I was there. That’s how she said it.”

“Unfair!” Neal roared suddenly, jumping to his feet, “Why doesn’t she think it would be me? I’m the obvious choice. I’m a prince!”

Gideon snorted, “Oh, yeah, and when was the last time you had a date, your highness?”

Neal paled as he thought about it and he sunk back to the ground, “I’m going to be alone forever.”

Laughter erupted from the group and as Neal tried to refute his statement, they only found it funnier. ______________________________ MEANWHILE, Robin Mills lay on the floor of her room with an assortment of other Storybrooke girls. They had fallen into a lull, all of them quietly staring at the ceiling. They were waiting from their friend Brenna to get back from a date they had all advised against, especially Brenna’s younger sister Keely.

For the third time in the hour that Brenna had been gone Robin slammed her fists on the carpet at her sides with a frustrated sigh.

“Why are there no good men in this town?”

Alexandra Herman, who honestly preferred Alex, gave the same answer she did anytime someone asked that poignant question, “I. Don’t. Know.”

Now, this exchange had already happened, and the other two times the four friends just let the room settle back into silence.

However, third times are a charm and all that, and this time Keely Jones, who was stationed on the bed, rolled over to sit up.

“What about Gideon Gold?” She said innocently, “He’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”

Robin gave a disbelieving squeak of laughter and Alex found a pillow that had made its way to the floor to chuck at her friend’s head. Keely caught it.

“I’m serious,” she said, “Gideon’s, like, hot.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Alex said, “you do realize your dad would kill you if you got with a Gold, right?”

“I know….” Keely said, a girlish smile still in her eyes. She then turned to Akilah David, who had taken up in the windowsill. She didn’t seem to be paying attention and so Keely threw the pillow at her.

It was a good throw and nailed Akilah right in the back of the head. “Ow! What the hell, Keely?”

“What do you think?” Keely asked.

The girl in the windowsill blinked at the three pairs of eyes trained on her, “What do I think about what?”

Now Alex was curious, “What do you think about Gideon? As in a love interest type way.”

“Gideon? Emotionally thick. As dumb as a concrete wall,” Akilah said. Robin raised her eyebrows at her and she amended, “Don’t get me wrong, he’s very intelligent, but the poor guy is so stiff he wouldn’t know you were flirting with him even if you flat out told him that you were.”

Robin, Alex, and Keely shared a three-way look and Akilah caught it.

“What?” She snapped, “It’s true.”

“Are you willing to bet on it?” Robin asked.

Akilah scoffed, “Bet on what exactly?”

“We each try to get Gideon. The one who can earns twenty dollars a piece from the other three.”

“Robin, are you nuts?”

“Fifty.”

“Look, that doesn’t help,” Akilah said, amazed that Keely and Alex hadn’t protested yet.

“I’ll make that bet,” Keely said, “This will be super fun.”

So much for having friends back up her opinion, “This is ridiculous,” Akilah said, “this is a human being’s feelings we’re talking about.”

Robin pounced again, “One hundred dollars.”

“I’m in,” Alex said suddenly. All eyes were back on Akilah to make her decision.

She sighed and looked out the window, “Look, Robin, there has to be a time limit; if we go past… a month. If we go past a month then the bet is off.”

There was another three-way look.

“Deal,” Robin’s eyes were sparkling at the idea of this game.

Akilah took a second more to think and then, “And what does ‘get’ mean, exactly?”

“Let’s just say whoever he kisses first,” Keely said, “Just to make, like, a clear line.”

“Fair,” Alex said.

Another half a minute passed before Akilah caved.

“Fine. Deal.”